I

➨

50 www.geographical.co.uk OCTOBER 2005

BOMBS OF LAOS

n 1993, nine-year-old Phonsay was playing in the fields when a friend found what he thought was a ball and threw it his way. Fortunately, Phonsay

missed the catch; the ball was, in fact, a cluster bomb. Phonsay doesn’t remember much of what happened next. An explosion caused burning shrapnel to tear a hole in his skull and left him in a coma. When he regained consciousness 25 days later, he discovered that brain damage had left him hemiplegic – he had lost the use of his entire left side. And although he can now talk and is just about able to walk, he still has difficulty comprehending how he became a casualty of a war that ended long before he was born.

The reasons are twofold. First, like all of the cluster bombs tested during the Indochina war, the BLU26 cluster bomblet (the most common in Laos and the one most likely to have been involved in Phonsay’s accident) is a sophisticated device. About the size of a child’s fist, it contains 100 grams of high explosive and an intricate, precision-engineered arming

mechanism. The problem is that this complicated component frequently fails, leaving unexploded bomblets scattered across the countryside in what are, ultimately, de-facto minefields. In Laos, where the US Airforce dropped an estimated 90 million cluster bombs, failure rates of the BLU26 stand at around 30 per cent. Which means that today there could be up to 27 million bomblets lying in wait for people such as Phonsay.

The second reason for Phonsay’s accident is that Laos remains, per capita, the most heavily bombed country in the history of warfare. This is because between 1964 and 1973, the Vietnamese ran the Ho Chi Minh trail through Laos in direct contravention of the Geneva Accords that had earlier recognised Laos’s neutrality. When the US military began its subsequent carpet bombing of the trail, it, too, contravened the accords in what was to become its most expensive military venture ever, costing US$2million (£1.2million) per day for the best part of nine years. By the end of 1973,

During the Vietnam War, the US military dropped more bombs on neighbouring Laos than it did worldwide during the entire Second World War. Up to a third of them failed to explode. Now, more than 30 years after the conflict ended, unexploded ordnance contaminates more than half the country’s land and kills around 200 people annually. Ben Winston reports

secret warForgotten bombsof

the

This page: staff from

UXO Lao and the

British-based Mines

Advisory Group have

begun work to clear

unexploded ordnance

from Laos’s countryside

All p

hoto

grap

hs: B

en W

insto

n

OCTOBER 2005 www.geographical.co.uk 51

secret warForgotten bombsof

the

The Secret War In 1962, Laos’s

neutrality was

recognised in the

Geneva Accords,

which forbade the

presence of foreign

military personnel on

its soil. However, both

the USA and North

Vietnam (as well as

China) directly

contravened the

agreement. In order

to circumvent the

accords, Laos was

known as ‘The Other

Theatre’ in official US

communications.

US pilots flew in

civilian clothes and

carried a pill which

contained lethal

shellfish toxins to be

used if they were

captured by the

enemy. But North

Vietnam never tried

to hide its presence,

which, by 1969,

amounted to

more than 71,000

military personnel.

The US Airforce

dropped one plane-

load of bombs on

Laos every eight

minutes for nine years

– a total of 2.3 million

tonnes by the end of

the war in 1973.

Rather than land

semi-laden, US pilots

would often empty

their bomb bays on

non-target areas

before crossing back

into Thailand.

52 www.geographical.co.uk OCTOBER 2005

this ‘secret war’ had seen more than two million tonnes of ordnance dropped on Laos – roughly ten tonnes of bombs for every square kilometre, or more than half a tonne for every man, woman and child.

Development is being hamperedPhonsay is one of more than 11,000 people to have been killed or injured by unexploded ordnance (UXO) since the end of hostilities (although a recent UN Development Program study suggests that the true number of victims could be more than double that figure). More than half of Laos’s arable land is too contaminated to be safely farmed and almost 60 per cent of the population is malnourished. This contamination also inhibits the building of roads, schools, bridges, hydro-power, irrigation schemes and other development projects that might help the country lift itself from poverty.

The village of Houi Dok Kham in the heavily contaminated Xieng Khouang province is a good example. It has an ample 48 hectares of cultivable

land, but three UXO deaths and widespread contamination have left the villagers too scared to cultivate more than two hectares. In 1995, the Asian Development Bank provided funds for an irrigation scheme that would have allowed the village to harvest two rice crops per year, but contractors were forced to stop work after discovering large numbers of cluster bombs,

Above: more than

11,000 people are said

to have been killed or

injured by UXO since

the war ended, but a

recent UN report

suggests it could be

more than double that

figure; Left: aluminium

from UXOs sells for up

to 6,000 kip (34 pence)

per kilogram

➨

The ever-growing human cost Thirty-seven-year-old Phouvieng Khamphang (below)

was digging holes in the earthen floor of his home when

he hit a cluster bomb which was buried in the ground. He

lost his left arm and leg in the explosion. His family house,

complete with their savings and everything they owned,

was burnt to the ground.

“I cannot see the future. I have no hopes,” he says.

“If I was dead, it would be okay, but I think I am unlucky

because I am alive and cannot work to earn money for

my family.”

He explains that discovering he had lost a leg was

extremely traumatic, and that it’s very difficult for him to

find food for his family. “Now my wife has to work in the

fields for low pay. I am very afraid – I spend my days in the

house worrying about my wife and bombies. I am to

scared to go into the fields.”

Following the accident, a charity called Consortium

provided Phouvieng with a new house and a buffalo. The

government provided a small plot of UXO-cleared land.

“I still have life and I have eyes,” he says. “When guests

visit me, I smile to try to forget the accident. But I have

nightmares. I try to forget, but I cannot.”

Contacts• Mines Advisory Group

is based in Manchester

and can be contacted

on 0161 236 4311. For

further information

about the organisation’s

operations or to make

a donation visit www.

magclearsmines.org

• For more information

on the campaign to ban

landmines and other

explosive remnants of

war, visit www.icbl.org

• If you would like to

know more about the

situation in Laos, visit

the national de-mining

agency’s website

www.uxolao.org

BOMBS OF LAOS

OCTOBER 2005 www.geographical.co.uk 53

mortars, grenades and other explosives beneath the soil surface.

Boun Seah, the village’s 52-year-old chief, sits in the shade between the stilts of his raised house and explains: “When Savan and Khampan were killed, many people stopped using the large area of fertile fields beneath our village. These days we cannot grow enough rice for everyone and often go hungry. We would cultivate the land if we knew where the bombs were buried, but we don’t. I would say that UXO is definitely the biggest problem facing our village today.”

Slow progress Nevertheless, Houi Dok Kham is lucky. The UK-based Mines Advisory Group (MAG) and national de-mining agency UXO Lao are busy clearing the village’s land for direct agriculture and to enable the completion of the irrigation scheme. For the first time since 1964, villagers can soon look forward to feeding themselves properly.

Out in the fields, the MAG teams pass metal detectors back and forth across the earth, listening for the bleep of buried metal. This is hot, painstaking work, yet each and every positive reading has to be marked. Once the detectors are clear of the area, technicians delicately excavate what, in most cases, turns out to be a harmless bomb fragment. Over two days, the teams uncover nearly 40 kilograms of scrap metal, a handful of bullets and five BLU26 cluster bombs.

During this clearance, MAG’s perfect safety record was nearly devastated in an incident that highlights the ignorance surrounding UXO. Hearing that bomb-disposal experts were in the area, a seven-year-old boy brought the team two live BLU26s, one in either hand. “Do you want to buy these?” he asked team leader Somphong Chanthavong. The BLU26 has a range of between ten and 15 metres, and Somphong knew that if either bomb went off, the boy, himself and a number of his staff would be killed. “I told him to be very still,” Somphong says, “then I dug a pit, backed off and told him to put the bombs into it very gently.” The boy did as he was told and, thankfully, neither detonated. “He had learned in school about the dangers of ‘bombies’,” Somphong says, “but he just didn’t make the link. He thought he could make a bit of money.”

Children under the age of 15 constitute 44 per cent of all UXO victims in Laos. “The trouble is that kids are curious,” explains Mick Hayes, MAG’s director of operations in Laos. “You hear it so often – stories of children getting arms or heads blown off while playing with what they think are toys.” The problem is so acute that the Lao national curriculum now includes an hour of UXO-awareness lessons each week. But what a child learns in school may be contradicted by the ubiquity of UXO at home.

Laos’s material poverty has led to a startling

Above: many Laotions such as Khun Ma Mat now make

their living trading scrap metal derived from UXO

G

54 www.geographical.co.uk OCTOBER 2005

BOMBS OF LAOS

proliferation of recycled war scrap – BLU3 bomblets are frequently dismantled and made into lamps, while the casings of larger 500-pound (227-kilogram) and 1,000-pound bombs make excellent plant pots, fence posts or stilts for a house. Many Lao spoons are fashioned from aluminium salvaged from downed US aircraft, and retrieved explosives are apparently good for fishing. But although many bombs are successfully recycled, amateur bomb disposal remains a risky business.

In the central province of Khammouane, local man Bounhome explains how his elderly father was tempted to dismantle a BLU24 cluster-bomb unit after scrap-metal traders offered him 5,000 kip (about 28 pence) per kilo of aluminium. “My dad knew it was dangerous and had explosive bombies packed inside,” he says. “But he liked to drink, and his judgement was probably clouded by how much money he thought he could get.” The bomb went off. “My dad didn’t have a chance,” he says. “But somehow I survived the explosion with only heavy shrapnel wounds to my legs.”

Bounhome’s story isn’t exceptional. In 2002, a large bomb killed the eight Kammouane men who were trying to defuse it. Then, in 2003, in Xieng Khouang province, a farmer tried to defuse a 500-pound bomb and blew up three houses, himself, six of his family and six of his neighbours. While these stories do deter some, there are still plenty of men such as Boulapha resident Cha Kai who make their living from scrap metal. He roams the fields with a cheap Vietnamese metal detector, selling his finds to Khun Ma Mat, the local metal merchant, for just 6,000 kip (34 pence) per kilogram of aluminium, and 600 kip for each kilogram of steel. A dismantled BLU26 is worth just under a penny.

In spite of the low prices and high risks, scrap metal is a growth industry in Laos, as the sharp

rise in UXO accidents in 2004 attests. Vietnamese traders are increasingly collecting from across the border, and a huge new incinerator in Xieng Khouang is already surrounded by thousands of tonnes of rusting car wrecks, cluster-bomb casings and tank turrets. In addition, tourists are now adding to the death toll as they buy dismantled cluster bombs for souvenirs.

Sadly, the problem of UXO in Laos looks set to get worse before it gets better: population growth is increasing the pressure on land and the price of scrap metal is rising. The best estimates suggest that the clear-up operation will take decades, and even that is dependent on adequate funds. Meanwhile, boys like Phonsay – indeed, more children not yet born – will continue to suffer from the devastating legacy of cluster bombs and other remnants of a secret war in which they played no part.

How to get thereDespite Laos’s problems, increasing numbers of

tourists have been visiting in recent years. Magic

of the Orient (01293 537700, www.magic-of-the-

orient.com) offers a ten-day, tailor-made tour

from around £1,695 per person, including flights,

transfers, accommodation and entry into sites.

Visitors can buy a 15-day visa upon entry; for

longer stays, you will have to apply through the

Lao embassy or through a travel agency.

When to go The best time to visit is between November

and January, before the rainy season (May to

September). Temperatures range from 27˚C to

36˚C, but high plateau areas are cooler.

Don’t miss The Pak Ou Caves, near Luang Prabang on the

confluence of the Mekong and Ou rivers, which

contain thousands of Buddha statues; That

Louang Festival, a week-long event in November

held at Laos’s most important religious site.

Co-ordin

ates

LAOSAbove left: MAG

experts attempt to

defuse a bomb

Above: posters are

used to alert children

to the presence of UXO

and teach them about

the associated risks